The Lakeside Conspiracy (10 page)

“Max, I’m not trying to put you on the spot,” Willy said. “Well, okay, maybe I am, but I need you to see there’s a lot more to it. It’s one thing to say we love someone, but it’s a whole ’nother thing to know how to do it.”

Max was writing down as much as he could.

“Max, it will be very helpful for you to think of love as a verb, not a noun,” Rose said. “We’re not talking about a feeling. We’re talking about actions, about things you do.”

“Love…is…a…verb,” Max said as he wrote it down and underlined each word.

“Again, I know this all sounds very simple, things even a child would know,” Willy said. “But I assure you it’s powerful stuff.” Willy was quiet while Max continued writing. “I think that’s enough for today, Max. But I do have a homework assignment for you.”

Max was ready to write it down. “Okay, go ahead,” he said.

“Come up with a list of ten actions that communicate to Michelle that you love her,” Willy said. “But keep something very important in mind—we’re not looking for actions that you think make her feel loved. We’re looking for actions that actually do make her feel loved.”

“Alright, I think I can do that,” Max said.

“You’ll need to put your detective hat on,” Willy said. “Think about your relationship. Look for clues.”

“Max, it’s also not cheating if you ask Michelle for help,” Rose said with a smile.

Max thanked Willy and Rose for breakfast and for spending part of their morning with him. As he drove home, it was dawning on him just how difficult his homework assignment would be. If the answers were obvious to him, Michelle probably wouldn’t be a thousand miles away. He knew he had a lot of work to do, but he also thought about Rose’s suggestion. That seemed like a good place to start.

As soon as he got home, he sat down at the table, pulled out his legal pad and numbered one through ten on his marriage game plan page. And then he called Michelle.

CHAPTER 35

It was a beautiful Saturday morning at the beach. Michelle had been walking along the water’s edge for almost two hours. She passed a few runners and several fishermen, but mostly the beach was deserted. Other than the waves rolling onto the beach and the seagulls scavenging for food, it was quiet and peaceful. She wondered what the latest forecast was on the storms headed west across the Atlantic.

Even though it was a peaceful morning, her mind felt anything but that way. She felt happy, but confused. Excited, but fearful. She also felt a nagging sense of guilt she had to keep pushing away. Anything that happened with Chris wouldn’t have happened if Max hadn’t ignored her for so long. Still though, she knew she was on shaky ground trying to rationalize it.

It was 11:50 and she was getting hungry. Most boardwalk businesses were already closed for the winter, but the Sawmill was still open. She was meeting Chris there at noon.

Michelle was about a quarter mile away when her phone starting buzzing. Just the thought of a phone call from Chris was exciting. She pulled it from her pocket and was about to accept the call when she saw it wasn’t Chris. It was Max. She let it continue to buzz until it finally stopped and went to voice mail. He was probably calling again to see if she was ready to come home. That was a conversation she just wasn’t ready to have. Maybe not ever.

A minute later, she saw Chris pull into the parking lot just ahead. It had been a great morning and was shaping up to be a great afternoon, if she could just put that phone call from Max out of her mind and enjoy her time with Chris.

She felt her phone buzz again. Just once, indicating a text. She looked at her phone and saw it was from Max. She wanted to ignore it. There wasn’t anything he could say she really cared to hear. What she cared about was lunch with Chris. He was here. He cared about her. Max had his chance.

She was about to slip her phone back into her pocket, but decided she’d just get it over with and see what Max wanted. She swiped the screen to bring up the message…

What makes you feel most loved?

“Hey, Shelle,” Chris said as he gave her a hug. “It’s so good to see you.”

“You too,” she said.

Chris took her hand in his as they walked up the boardwalk together. In her other hand, she still held her phone, which buzzed again. She swiped the screen with her thumb and glanced down, trying not to let Chris see…

I’m trying.

And then she noticed the text she’d ignored from the day before. It was a picture of a wrecked car.

CHAPTER 36

Max spent the rest of the weekend as he had the past two—working on his game plans. He also worked on the assignment Willy had given him. It was proving to be much harder than he’d thought. It would have been easy to just throw a few things on a piece of paper, but he wanted it to be a meaningful list. Plus, he suspected Willy and Rose weren’t going to let him get away with going through the motions. And that’s not what he wanted to do. He wanted to do this right.

He was disappointed Michelle hadn’t called or texted him back. He was trying to make things better and wanted her to at least acknowledge his effort. The more he thought about it though, the more he realized he had no right to expect her to respond. He wondered how many times she had tried with him and had expected at least an acknowledgement. Way too many to count, he was sure.

By Monday morning, Max felt some hope returning. Circumstances hadn’t changed, but he felt like he was on the right course. The win against Springdale had been huge. A win against Rogers would get them to 2-2. He was going to have to address the situation with Dave Turner though. They might not win another game with the way he was coaching.

Max thought about his last encounter with Jack Murphy. He’d been warned. Or was it threatened? Something Max had done had gotten Jack worked up. It was either his call to Ms. Jones or to the police. Or both. And one or both of them had obviously let Jack know Max had called. But why?

Part of him knew he should just let it drop. There was no sense in getting on the wrong side of Jack Murphy. But Max knew something was wrong. Something was very wrong. Whatever was happening in Lakeside involved Jack and had possibly led to Dante’s death. Max had no proof linking Jack to Dante, but he had the picture of the accident scene. And Michelle had it too. If she hadn’t deleted it.

On his way into school, Max passed the scene of Dante’s accident as he did every morning. He decided then that he couldn’t let it go. He couldn’t just ignore the fact that a young man had died, a young man he had coached and cared about. The police had closed their investigation and Jack had warned him, even threatened him to stay away. But he realized he was the only person, other than the police, who knew something wasn’t right. And clearly they weren’t going to do anything about it.

As Max pulled into the school parking lot, his phone buzzed. He pulled it from his pocket. It was Dante’s mother. She was the last person he expected to call. Michelle was a close second though.

It wasn’t a long conversation, but she said she was willing to meet with him. He had a coach’s meeting scheduled after practice, so he offered to meet at her house when he was done. She quickly suggested they meet at Kennedy Coffee shop just off the interstate in Bentonville. It was a forty-five minute drive from Lakeside. They agreed to meet there at 9:00 p.m.

He tried to imagine what would cause her to be so afraid of meeting at her own house.

CHAPTER 37

As important as preparing for the Rogers game was, Max had trouble concentrating both during practice and the meeting with his coaching staff. Dave Turner appeared to be just as distracted, even nervous.  Max wrapped up the meeting at 8:00, which gave him more than enough time to get to the meeting with Ms. Jones.

On the drive to Bentonville, he had a million jumbled thoughts running through his mind. What was Michelle thinking? What were ten actions that made her feel loved? What could they do to move the ball against Rogers? How did Jack Murphy know he’d called Ms. Jones, the police or both? He didn’t have a complete answer to any of those questions. And his partial answers made him even more confused.

At exactly 9:00, Max parked his truck and walked inside. There were about a dozen people seated at various tables, drinking coffee and engaged in conversations or staring at a screen of some kind. Max looked at the menu written on a blackboard hanging behind the counter. He had no idea what most of the drinks even were and it took a minute to actually find coffee on the menu.

The woman in front of him ordered a drink he couldn’t even understand. He’d heard “mocha” and “decaf” and “soy.” It sounded like something Michelle would have ordered. The server rang up the order and handed the woman her change. She asked Max what she could get for him. He was about to tell her he just wanted a black coffee, but changed his mind. He asked the server to make him whatever the woman in front of him had just ordered. With one change though. He wanted regular coffee in it, not decaf.

He paid for whatever it was he ordered and found a table in the corner. He watched the door for Dante’s mother while listening for the server to call out his name. He tried to remember what the servers in a place like this were called. Michelle had tried to tell him several times, but he usually got it wrong. He was pretty sure they were “barristers”, but he wasn’t positive.

A couple minutes later, the barrister, or whatever, called his name. He thanked her and sat back down. Instead of a cup of black coffee like he usually had, Max was staring at a bowl of coffee with foam on top in the shape of a smiley face. He looked around to see how many other people were drinking from bowls. Most were.

He lifted it with two hands and took a sip. He was surprised at how good it tasted. It reminded him of Rose’s cinnamon rolls more than it did a cup of coffee. He took another sip and decided to find out exactly what he was drinking so he could get it again. Maybe he could even learn how to make it at home for Michelle. He took out a note pad from his shirt pocket and wrote down:
4. Make special drinks she likes.

He now had four things on his list that he felt confident would make Michelle feel loved. He had the rest of the week to come up with six more before breakfast with Willy and Rose on Saturday. He took another sip of his drink and looked at the clock. It was 9:05. He’d give Ms. Jones until 9:15 before calling her.

It had been a long time since Max had just sat down in a coffee shop like this. He looked around at the various people seated around the room. There were a couple groups of teenagers with books spread out on the table. They were probably Bentonville high school students studying for a test or working on a project. Mostly though they were looking at their phones.

Couples sat at three tables. They were far enough away he couldn’t hear their conversations, but he could imagine based on their body language. One couple was leaning across the table holding hands. They didn’t take their eyes off each other. At the next table, the woman was sipping a drink looking at the guy who was doing something on his phone. She seemed to be waiting patiently for him to finish whatever was more important than her. Max couldn’t tell if the third couple was angry at each other or had just given up.

It didn’t take a lot of insight to see the three couples mirrored the various stages of his relationship with Michelle. He only hoped they’d be able to recapture what he saw in the first couple, the one that reminded him of Willy and Rose.

Just then the door opened and he looked over expecting to see Ms. Jones walk in, but it wasn’t her.

It was Jack Murphy.

CHAPTER 38

Jack wasted no time making his way to Max’s table. “How are you, Max?” Jack said as he sat down uninvited.

“What are you doing here, Jack?” Max said, trying to sound strong, not surprised.

“I could ask you the same question,” Jack said.

The two men studied each other. Max was feeling a little disoriented and getting angrier by the second.

“Where’s Ms. Jones?” Max said.

It would have been easy for Jack to act like he had no idea what Max was even talking about, but he didn’t. Apparently, they were beyond that point. “Let’s not worry about her,” Jack said. “Not right now anyway.”

Max realized he was clenching his fists, which Jack noticed. As much as he wanted to take Jack’s head off, he had enough self-control to take it down a notch. Causing a scene wasn’t going to help things.

“Max, despite what you may think, I like you,” Jack said. “And I know you’ve come through some hard stuff with losing your daughter and all. I want to help you.”

“Get to the point, Jack.”

“Alright, have it your way, Max. I’m going to ask you nicely to back off.”

“From what, Jack? Back off from what?”

Jack sighed and rubbed his face with both hands the way a parent does when a child is pushing the limits. “Damnit, Max,” Jack said loud enough for the nearby tables to hear. Then in a softer voice, he said, “From things you don’t understand. From things much bigger than just you or me or Dante.”

Max looked down at his bowl of coffee and wished it was just a black cup of coffee. “And if I don’t?”

Jack’s half smile disappeared and was replaced by narrow eyes and a clenched jaw. He was starting to look like Max felt.

The television above their table was showing the tropical storms that were continuing to make their way westward. One was headed directly at Florida. The other one right behind it was turning to the north. Jack nodded toward the screen and said, “Ever been in a hurricane, Max?”

“No,” Max said.

“Me either,” Jack said. “If I knew something that big and powerful, something so unpredictable was coming toward me—there’s no way I’d stick around.”

Max waited for Jack to continue.

“I’d heed the warning,” he said with his eyes locked on Max. “Why risk getting killed, right?” Jack got up, pushed his chair under the table and stood over Max. “By a hurricane, I mean.”

“Where is she?” Max said.

Jack looked up at the television, then back to Max. “Keep an eye on the storm, Max.”

Max watched Jack walk to the door and leave. He picked up his phone and tried calling, Ms. Jones. She didn’t answer and he didn’t leave a message. He thought about calling the police, but what would he even say? She missed their date? That Jack Murphy threatened him?

He had learned one thing though. Somehow Jack was connected to Ms. Jones. So either she had called him after agreeing to meet with him or somehow Jack had found out about the meeting. It didn’t make sense for her to call Jack though. Why would she agree to meet him here and then inform Jack? He was still trying to make sense of it all when his phone started buzzing. He picked it up and got his second surprise of the night.

Michelle was calling.